Special
by Temporal Death
Summary: Impatient on how her powers aren't growing, Melinda Halliwell casts a spell, attempting to be as powerful as her brothers. The spell somewhat serves its purpose, but after Wyatt & Chris are kidnapped, it's up to Melinda to show how special she really is.
1. Panic! At The Restaurant

**A/N - I edited this chapter as I felt the need to do so. Reread If you haven't and please review.**

**Chapter 1 - Panic! At The Restaurant**

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Summer was here, and it was a nice sunny afternoon at two o' clock. Birds chirping, children playing, the sun shinning down through the trees making what the older generation called 'angel rays'. These sounds and sights alike were not to be missed in San Francisco, but Melinda Halliwell was stuck working a shift at her mother's multi-cuisine restaurant.

She walked out of the Italian Kitchen and into the furnished dining area carrying a pizza in one hand, a grimace across her face. _One medium vegetarian pizza, with extra jalapeño peppers, and oh, hold the onions and tomatoes,_ she mimicked the client as she carried the dish to his table.

"Here you go, Mr. Helton" she said, as she placed the pizza on the table, feigning a smile.

The customer didn't reciprocate. Melinda turned away and rolled her eyes. He was a regular here, having an Italian dish every Tuesday and dining from the other cuisines on selected days of the week. Melinda straightened her apron and walked back towards the counter.

"Excuse me, miss," a handsome young man said, his voice raised.

Melinda turned to see him give a sweet smile. She returned it, feeling as to how she felt when no one did the same. "So, what'll it be?" Melinda asked him, her notepad and pen which she withdrew from her apron pockets in hand.

The man's smile twisted slyly. "I'll have one witch and her powers," he furtively ordered.

Melinda's forehead wrinkled and again, she faked a smile. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked, pretending to have not heard his question. The man's countenance grew more evil as Melinda backed away. He held out his hand and generated a fireball. "You're mine." He let go of the flaming ball and that was when instinct kicked in. Melinda raised her hands in fear and then, all was still. The fireball was suspended in midair, the man's evil grin put on hold. The other waiters didn't move and Mr. Helton had his greedy mouth open, a pizza slice ready to enter the monstrous wet cave. Melinda threw her hands in the air in frustration. This wasn't the first time this had happened at Chez Trois. Just then her mother walked in.

"Melly, how long have you-" Piper Halliwell paused on seeing the frozen scene.

"Okay, you remember the exposure talk we had a week ago?" she asked her daughter, annoyed. "Melinda, you can't just go freezing things. Your power range is only limited to a room. What if someone-"

Melinda stepped aside to reveal the fireball and the demon in throwing-position behind her. "Oh!" Piper exclaimed, ceasing her bitching. Melinda responded with a sarcastic smiling headshake. Piper quickly flicked her wrist, exploding the fireball and the demon simultaneously.

"You know what? I quit!" Melinda angrily declared. "I hate this job. I hate these demons. I hate being helpless!" With that she pulled off her apron and angrily trod towards the "Staff Only" area, slamming the door and causing her freeze to wear off. The scene resumed and Melinda's notepad which was about to hit the floor did. Piper looked around and stared at it with, exhaling a sigh.

Handbag on shoulder, Melinda angrily walked out of her mother's restaurant. She had several reasons to be angry. She had frozen the demon, after which she was helpless. And then her mother had the nerve of yelling at her! _How dare she?_

"You seem to be upset," a familiar voice said from behind Melinda, bringing her back from her world of rage. Melinda stopped in her tracks. "I guess that means I don't get my daily donation today."

Melinda clutched her fists, uttering the words _"Why don't I just freeze this piece of filth?"_ to herself. The homeless man that she saw everyday after leaving was sitting near the entrance, his curtained hair partly covering his smirk. She had always given him a dollar or so everyday, not to mention leftovers from for dinner. Melinda rolled her eyes and encaged her anger. She unzipped her purse and approached him, pulling out the usual two dollars and handing it to the man.

He happily took it. "You know, you're really special," he told Melinda, causing a mixed expression to surface on Melinda's face. "Not everyone stops by everyday to do this." This caused Melinda to force a slight smile. At least someone thought she was special. Sometimes while offering him leftovers and not having anyone else to talk to, she had short conversations with him. Short interesting conversations - about the inequalities of life, about trust, about life altering errors. And yet all she knew was his name - Jett Chaseman - when she had casually asked him the question.

Melinda's smile faded as she heard her mother call her name from the door. She turned away, quickly trying to make it to her car that was parked a few feet away. She slammed the car door hard, and instantly started to drive away. Flushed, Piper turned around, looking for people who might have seen the embarrassing situation. But there were none; just a dog near a fire hydrant and two dollar bills sitting still near the front door.

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**End of Chapter One.**


	2. Protection

**Chapter 2 - Protection

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**

Melinda stormed into Halliwell Manor and crossed the foyer and headed towards the stairs. She was pissed for many reasons, all of which concerned her family. "I seriously don't know why I need to deal with them," she said to herself.

"Deal with whom?" a gentle yet masculine voice asked from behind her.

Melinda turned to see her eldest sibling standing near the conservatory archway.

"No one," she angrily replied, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. Wyatt raised an eyebrow. "Fine, I can't deal with you guys," Melinda blurted out. Then, biting her tongue, she apologized. "Look Wyatt, I'm really sorry it's just…"

"Demon!" Chris called from the stairs, and waved his hand, telekinetically throwing the demon onto the black table in the foyer. Wyatt protectively pushed Melinda behind him. "Stand back," he warned her. Melinda opened her mouth to speak, but Wyatt had his hands raised, and in seconds, the demon disintegrated, an orange aura aiding the explosion.

Melinda stepped back in front of her brother. "That!" she said pointing a finger at him and resumed her original trek up the stairs, giving Chris an angry stare as she passed him.

Melinda slammed the door behind her and dropped her handbag on her dressing table. She was still angry, and the knocking on the door made it worse.

"Melinda can we come in?" Wyatt asked in his usual mild tone. "We just want to talk."

"No!" She replied, like a tantrum-throwing child.

"Who needs her permission? The door's open-" Chris told Wyatt, and turned the knob.

"Chris, don't you dare walk through the door or you'll be the sorriest toad in San Francisco!" Melinda threatened him.

"Okay, we'll orb!" And instantly, in thousands of tiny blue and white lights, Wyatt and Chris materialized in front of their sister. Before Melinda could begin barking, Chris shrugged, "You only said we couldn't 'walk through that door'!" Wyatt nudged him with an elbow and took a seat on Melinda's bed.

"So what's really bothering you?" Wyatt asked her, being the caring, protective brother. Melinda looked at him and started to unwind.

"For one, I hate being treated like the baby of the family. I hate being protected all the time. For heaven's sake I'm twenty-one! And then there is the power thing. Pamela, Patience and Pige have the whole Power-of-three-ish thing. The twins are destined to be 'doubly-blessed'. Henry is a Whitelighter. And you, you're like Wyatt Almighty. I mean even Chris had something special to do! Even if it was mere time travel." Wyatt chuckled while Chris pondered on her statement. "I mean I'm a witch too, I wouldn't mind kicking some demon ass once in a while."

"You don't have an offensive power," Chris sternly told her.

"Why do you have to be like that?" Melinda asked him. Chris shrugged, searching for the right words.

"Well, what he means to say is that if you'd be cornered by a demon-"

"-I'd freeze him, kick him in the balls, and run away," Melinda cheekily replied, interrupting Wyatt's rational approach. Wyatt let out a little chuckle and then Melinda asked them a simple "Yes, or no?"

Wyatt looked at Chris and then back at Melinda. He was at a loss of words. They had always been overprotective of her, but now he was in a tough spot. A 'yes' would mean putting her life in danger, and a 'no' would result in another fit of fury.

Chris finally broke the silence. "No," Chris told her, putting his hands on her shoulders, "But try again when you get an offensive power." Melinda backed away from him, anger and disgust flushing her face.

Wyatt stood up and touched Chris. "Didn't you want to go and check on P3?" he asked hastily, trying to prevent any physical damage between his siblings. "I'll orb you!" And in seconds the pillars of tiny blue and white orbs disappeared, leaving behind an enraged Melinda.

Melinda marched up to the attic in anger. She approached the Halliwell heirloom that her matriarchs had been passing down each generation. She angrily opened it and flipped through the pages in desperation. "I'll show you offensive power," Melinda muttered to herself, looking for a spell to help her. But when she found nothing, she slammed the Book shut in frustration.

Hands on the triquetra and eyes on the attic ceiling, she continued grumbling. "I'm a Halliwell for crying out loud. It has been six freaking years since my powers were unbound and they still haven't advanced. This is so unfair!"

Melinda felt a slight breeze shift her ponytail. She instantly moved her hands away from the Book as the pages started flipping themselves. Quickly she grabbed a pen and a notepad from the nearby shelf. "_To Call For A Lost Witch…_" she read out loud as she noted it down. The pages quickly resumed turning themselves once the title was noted. This seemed new, it had never done this before. "_Spell To Accelerate Time_," Melinda noted, now skeptical. And once again they flipped, finally stopping at "_Lost And Found Spell_".

Melinda now understood what the Book was trying to do. Confident, she merged the three spells, editing it where necessary. Once fully composed, she lit a candle, and began her incantation:

_"Family spirits I seek your charity,  
Lend me focus and clarity,  
Powers of the witches rise,  
Course unseen across the skies,  
Give my powers wings to speed their way,  
Let tomorrow's be today's."_

On finishing the spell she placed the piece of paper into the flame, causing the flame to consume the piece of paper. All that remained were white fumes — mere smoke. Melinda didn't feel different. There were no signs that the spell had worked. Having nothing else to do, Melinda sighed and left the attic, the white wisps of smoke unintentionally frozen in the air.

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Somewhere deep in the underworld, icy blue irises faded in from the cloudy sclera. A cold wispy voice proclaimed in the eternal night: "She has awoken!"

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**End of Chapter Two.**


	3. Progress

**Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming. So without furthur ado:**

**Chapter 3 - Progress

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**

Sunlight streamed through her bedroom window as Melinda kicked back the sheets and got out of bed. Luckily, the bathroom wasn't occupied, and Melinda stepped in to take a hot shower. After drying herself, she put on a red shirt and a pair of blue jeans and descended to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Morning," Leo greeted her, "Looks like you slept well last night." Melinda smiled and opened the fridge to grab some peanut butter and jelly.

"Well, I didn't dream of being inferior," Melinda quipped. "So where is the rest of my magically superior family?"

"Wyatt's in Toronto with Candelle," her father replied, "Chris is at P3, interviewing new bartenders, and your mother is picking fresh parsley from the garden."

Melinda placed the bottles on the table and grabbed the loaf of bread. "Don't you feel out of place - inferior - in this family?" Melinda asked her father. "Like they have their futures prophesized and ours are just - normal!" she blurted out, putting in two slices into the antique toaster.

"I've had my share of magic," Leo told her, smiling, "and my part in destiny. Trust me, your mother and your aunts aren't the only ones who have changed the world." This made Melinda frown a bit, making her feel lower than the 'mortal' in the family. But her father continued: "Melinda, you are a Halliwell. I have seen three generations of them, four perhaps. And you are the fifth I'm watching over, my very own. And if there's one thing I know about Halliwells, it's that they are destined for greatness." Melinda's frown was now changed into a smile. Her father always had a way with words; a way in which he could easily make her feel better. That was his magic.

Melinda was so lost in the moment that the sound of the toast popping made her heart skip. And then there was silence. Stillness. She hadn't raised her hands, but she knew when it felt this way. It was when she used her power, the same old weak one she cribbed about. Had the spell she cast really worked? Her mother's incoming yelling confirmed this.

"Melinda!" She called out enraged, barging into the kitchen. "Okay, I was outside picking parsley," she rambled, placing the bunch on the counter, "and then suddenly this butterfly near the petunias just froze." Piper took off one of her gardening gloves. "I looked around to see and-" she stopped when she saw her statuary husband. "Why did you freeze your father?" she asked, vexed further.

Melinda shrugged. "I was caught off guard," she told her mother, as the latter flicked her wrists and unfroze Leo. "I barely raised my hands," she continued, and then turned to her father. "Sorry."

"It's not the first time I've been frozen," Leo winked at her, and then looked at Piper.

"Can it," the fifty-something witch snapped. "This must mean your powers are finally advancing." Melinda feigned a proud smile but her mother saw right through her. "Melly, what did you do?" Melinda brought her eyebrows closer to act as if she didn't know what her mother was talking about, but then Piper continued: "It took me nine years to freeze without channelling my power through my hands. And it took me even longer to freeze the entire block-"

"She froze the entire block?" Leo interrupted.

"And beyond," Piper added. She then looked at her daughter. "Melinda, either you tell me what happened, or I cast a truth spell on you."

"Okay, Piper, calm down," Leo intervened, going to her side and laying his hands on her shoulders. "Let's just try and unfreeze the neighbourhood before the chance of exposure rises." Piper heaved a sigh and shook her head at Melinda and turned around. The three went to the front porch, where Melinda stopped in awe.

Children playing ball on the street were frozen; the ball just about to land into a young boy's glove. A helicopter about was suspended in midair, as were the birds in mid-flap. She stepped forth to see a car that was just about to turn around the corner still. Melinda's range had multiplied tenfold. Earlier, her power simply affected anything, except witches and certain demons, within the four walls of a room. With a deep breath, and a flick of her wrists, Melinda simply undid the freeze and turned towards her parents.

"Inside, now," Piper told her as she did when Melinda was seven.

Back in the foyer, Piper reminded Melinda of the pending truth. "I'm still waiting," she told her, tapping her feet. Melinda finally gave in.

"I cast a spell," she shamefully admitted, knowing what was about to come her way.

"Excuse me, you did what?!" Piper asked her only daughter, anger and annoyance expressing themselves in her voice.

Melinda frowned. "It was just a spell to accelerate my powers. It isn't all that bad."

Piper snorted at the remark. "'Isn't all that bad'? Wait till personal gain comes and bites you in the ass." Leo just watched as the mother-daughter dispute continued.

"My power is the only one that didn't progress," Melinda reciprocated in her defence. "Patience seemed to have the same power when hers was unbound but she can rewind, slow down, and at some rate accelerate it. I can freeze, and it didn't reach far when I did too." Before her mother could replay the whole personal gain lecture, Melinda added, "Plus it isn't personal gain. I'm getting more powers so I can help more innocents."

Piper growled in frustration. "Talk to her," she said, turning to Leo.

Leo stepped forth to confront Melinda. "Look Melly, what your Mom's trying to say is-"

He was interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone. Trying to avoid her father, Melinda quickly reached her cell that lay on the antique side table beside one of her great-grandmother's lamps. The word "Sally" appeared on the screen display as the tiny little thing kept ringing. As soon as Melinda's fingers touched the phone, an electric impulse shot up her spine. It was an intense, a feeling that she had never experienced before. It made her gasp, and her eyes shut abruptly. A few seconds later, Melinda collapsed. Worried, her parents rushed to her side.

Piper bent down to see her daughter recovering. "Sweetie, are you okay?" she asked, helping her up. Melinda nodded.

"What happened?" Leo asked her, helping her up. Melinda glanced around the room looking at their faces.

"I think I just had a premonition," Melinda softly said. Piper looked confused.

"A premonition?" she asked anxiously. "That can't be. Even if this is your spell accelerating your power development, it's not near related to your initial power. I mean, I started out with the same power but it works by slowing down molecules. My other is molecularly based as well. And Patience, hers works as part of her time manipulation. Your power is way far from premonition."

"What did you see?" Leo asked, concerned, slightly diverting the topic.

"Sally," Melinda said, still trying to regain her breath. "She was at her place. And then, a demon shimmered in and stabbed her."

"As in your friend Sally?" Piper asked, "The one who worked at P3?" Melinda nodded but she began to panic.

"I gotta save her," Melinda stated with a blank stare and hastily grabbed her car keys from where her cell was.

"Melinda, wait," Piper said, stopping her by grabbing her shoulder. "You can't go alone. What if you get hurt?" But Melinda pretended not to hear that and stormed out of the house. Piper sighed as the door slammed shut.

"Wyatt! Chris!" she frantically shouted, startling her husband.

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Melinda trod down the badly wallpapered hallway. She hoped that she wasn't too late. On seeing Sally's apartment door open, Melinda was initially afraid. But it was something she had read in the Book of Shadows that gave her the courage to open it further. _"__It sometimes helps when you don__'__t think of what__'__s behind the door,__"_she recalled.

When she entered, the blonde girl turned around and as soon as she did, the demon shimmered in behind her.

"Leave her alone," Melinda demanded. "What do you want?" The demon chuckled and an athame materialized. Melinda was uncertain of what to do. This was the first time she had actually faced a demon alone. Melinda raised her hands to freeze the demon, but only Sally froze.

"Stay back witch or the mortal gets it," the demon threatened. "Actually, forget it, what are you going to do? Freeze me to death?" This ticked her off. "You helpless little witch. I might as well get you and then the innocent after she's off the ice." Melinda's fury built up as the demon snickered and progressed towards her.

"_A witch__'__s powers and emotions are tied_," she remembered, and now her fury was at its max. She once again lifted her hands to freeze him, but instead, the demon was flung back. Melinda looked around to see if it were one of her brothers, but to her contentment, it wasn't. This means that she had telekinesis too. Snapping out of her state of awe, Melinda noticed the athame at her feet. She had taken note of the way her brother and cousin had used this power. And before the demon could rise, Melinda waved her hand and the athame penetrated the demon, combusting him. Meanwhile Sally unfroze, and Melinda hurried to her side.

"Are you okay?" Melinda asked her in a concerned tone. The blonde nodded and hugged her friend. Suddenly, the athame that lay on the floor dematerialized and reappeared in Sally's hand. Unbeknownst to Melinda, she had her where she wanted.

"I'm so glad that you're okay," Melinda said backing away from her.

"Can't say the same for you," Sally retorted, her voice deepening with each word. She raised the athame and her eyes glowed red. 'Sally' chuckled, transforming into the bald headed demon that Melinda had seen in her vision. Melinda raised her hands to freeze him, but he didn't. "Old parlour tricks sure come handy," he said with a grin, referring to how he 'froze'. "I got your friend way before you arrived."

Suddenly, he burst into a million pieces, golden energy helping highlighting the combustion. Melinda was sure that this wasn't one of her powers. She turned towards the kitchenette to see her oldest brother — Wyatt. Wyatt looked at her with compassionately, ready to answer what she was thinking.

"I know that you don't need our protection," Wyatt told her, not giving her a chance to snap. "But you are our baby sister and we-"

"Mom sent you, didn't she?" Melinda asked angrily, rolling her eyes. "I just can't understand why you can't leave me alone. I already defeated a demon-"

"And now one would have defeated you," Chris completed her sentence, in a way she wouldn't. It was then that Melinda lost it. She raised her hands and let out a cry as telekinetic energy left her hands. She lashed out all the anger she had bottled up against them. Wyatt and Chris were flung onto the bare wall behind them, and they hit it hard.

Still breathing heavily, Melinda didn't notice the a golden outline of a woman glistened out of nowhere. A fair, dark-haired and light eyed woman materialized within it. Without a word, the woman dropped golden scarab shaped amulets with embedded sapphire on the fallen half-Whitelighters.

"Stop!" Melinda commanded, as she advanced the snow-white Seer, constantly trying to freeze and use her telekinesis on her. But it didn't work. Suddenly the Seer threw an athame towards her. All that was heard was a swift swipe as the ceremonial knife penetrated Melinda's stomach. Helpless, Melinda fell to the floor, slowly bleeding to death as the demon teleported out, probably with her unconscious brothers.

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**Okay, a longer chapter. I already have Chapter 4 ready, but I need reviews to motivate me to upload it. When I have enough, you guys will learn what happens next.**

**Yep, I'm evil. Boo! Review.**


	4. Predecessor

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I thought as a New Year's gift you guys could have this chapter. So,**

Chapter 4 - Predecessor

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Tears rolled down Melinda's cheeks as she lay on Sally's apartment floor, helpless. Everything was her fault. She should have gotten here sooner; Sally was dead because she was late, as always. If she had never cast that spell, her brothers wouldn't have been knocked out, nor would they have been taken by the demon. Her thoughts grew fainter every second. And then, her vision. No sound. She was unconscious. She was dying.

Melinda floated in an abyss of darkness which strangely propelled her upwards instead of pulling her down. Soon she found herself approaching a light. Then, she came to a halt on an imaginary platform, planar to the horizon of the light.

"_Don't die on me." _She heard a familiar voice whisper. But no one was there; she couldn't even put a name to the voice. Melinda floated forwards towards the light.

"_Don't die on me." _Once more, the voice more determined. Melinda set into a state of panic. She tried to freeze. It didn't work. She knew her mother was right - personal gain was getting her back.

"_Don't die on me, please." _This time it something happened. Melinda felt a light being emitted from behind her, drawing her closer. She accelerated toward the light slowly.

In Sally's room, Jett Chaseman bent over Melinda, his hand over her wound. The blood stained athame lay beside Melinda near the pool of blood. Jett smiled as the golden light emitted from his hands, falling on Melinda's wound. It had initially been slow, but now the healing sped up as the blood re-entered her body.

Melinda felt herself being pulled back faster.

Finally, the wound sealed itself, and the Whitelighter's smile grew as he moved his right hand over her face.

Melinda was now pulled back down the path she floated up at of speed of light. Her eyes opened. Blurry vision turned clear as she looked up at the ceiling. She pushed herself up and looked around the room. No one was there. She put her hand to her stomach to find no damage or tear whatsoever. All she found was a bloodstained dagger beside her, telling her that this wasn't all a dream.

She had been given a second chance; she had been healed. And now she had to save her brothers.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Back at Halliwell Manor, Piper had performed a little séance to learn about Melinda's strange power development. The familiar glowing brunette who stood within the circle of candles was none other than Grams.

"You know, if I was in your place, I'd firstly reverse that spell," Grams told Piper.

"She's stubborn, and has a heck of a temper to go with it," Piper told her grandmother.

Grams raised and eyebrow and smiled. "I can see where she gets it from," she told her.

"So you're saying that she has both molecular inhibition and premonition?" Grams asked her granddaughter. Piper nodded her head to confirm. "Has she shown signs of telekinesis?"

"No," Piper replied, "But at the rate her powers are developing, I wouldn't know." Grams threw shifty glances. "Why? What are you getting at?" Piper asked her anxiously.

"Well, as you know, we usually start with an ancestral power and it develops," Grams explained. "Melinda's new powers are based within her and the spell's just activating them. Throughout our family line, there has been only one witch to simultaneously possess at least two out of the three powers."

Piper understood. "Melinda Warren," she stated, recalling her family history.

"That's where you're answer lies. Blessed be, my darling," Grams told her, and then disappeared in a swirl of white lights.

Piper remembered the ritual she had performed in her freshman year as a witch. It called for the blood of the pioneer's descendants. The Book had stated that Melinda would only come back fully flesh and blood if it was the blood of the Charmed Ones. Otherwise, she would be more or less deformed due to the way she had died. But calling for Paige and Phoebe would take too long. She had the basic ingredients which were needed on the potions' table. Of course, her powers had progressed over the years, her blood alone might just bring the dead witch back long enough for an explanation. Now all she needed was one of Melinda Warren's possessions. The last time they had summoned her, they had used the Pewter Heart, but Melinda took it back with her in order to secure Matthew Tate's confinement. Piper thought for a moment and then it hit her. She moved towards one of the old wooden chest and began searching for a long forgotten present. A smile crossed Piper's face as she lifted her ancestor's blessing cup which her sisters had gifted her on her wedding day.

Once all the candles were lit, Piper dropped in the herbs into the blessing cup. Grabbing the athame, she pricked her finger without flinching. She wasn't as hesitant as she was the first time she had done this. Carefully, she pressed the tip of her finger to let a few drops of blood ooze into the blessing cup. When she was ready she began the spell:

_"Melinda Warren, Blood of my blood,  
My great great great great great great great grandmother,  
I summon thee."_

Spheres of white light with a golden glimmer swirled in front of the Book of Shadows, forming a womanly figure. The light soon faded to reveal a blonde woman, seemingly in her twenties, with sharp cheekbones and clothes from the seventeenth century.

"Oh, blessed be!" Melinda Warren exclaimed, advancing towards Piper. "My, you have grown," she told the fifty-something witch while hugging her.

"And you haven't changed a bit," Piper replied with a smile. The joyous reunion was interrupted by the younger Melinda barging in.

"We've got a problem," she told Piper, panting. "Oh my god! Is she-" she asked, spotting the blonde witch.

"Melinda Warren," Piper told her daughter.

"I've read about you and I loved the stories Mom told me about you," Melinda Halliwell rambled, smiling at the first witch in the family. The older Melinda smiled back, realizing that the brunette was her descendant.

"Melinda meet Melinda," Piper told her ancestor. "She's the reason I've summoned you."

"What's wrong?" she asked Piper.

"Well, Melinda's powers progressed rather slowly," Piper explained. "I had them bound when she was four and unbound them when she was fifteen. So Melinda did something to assure that their development occurred, uh, faster."

"I cast a spell," Melinda shamefully confessed to her ancestor.

Melinda Warren reached her descendant of the same name and lifted her chin. "And there is nothing to be ashamed of," she told her, making the brunette look up. "You are a witch, a Warren to be precise. It's in your nature to do such things. But from our faults, we learn." Melinda smiled back at her. Then turning to Piper, the blonde asked, "So what happened?"

"Well her first and only power was the ability to freeze things. After her spell, she got a premonition," Piper told her wise progenitor.

"And I used telekinesis later," Melinda informed her two matriarchs. Piper's eyes widened. Melinda's reaction however was different.

"Oh Melinda, this is wonderful," the older Melinda informed her.

"Uh, excuse me, how?" Piper asked, now confused.

"Usually, a witch's secondary power develops from her initial one," she informed her, "But there are certain witches, special ones, which develop all three powers - telekinesis, premonition, and freezing time." Melinda smiled when she heard the word 'special'. "In my time they were called Trescelté, meaning a witch of three."

Piper's smile reflected her daughter's proud countenance. "Okay, but this still means that we need to reverse the spell," Piper reminded her daughter.

"Your powers will progress in time," Melinda Warren reminded her.

"Well, not yet," the brunette Melinda told them. "We have a problem. After the fight against the demons, a fair she-demon abducted them. She dropped these golden amulet-like things with blue jewels on them."

Piper seemed worried. "I'm sure that you will sort this out," Melinda Warren told them, "But I have an afterlife to live."

"Right," Piper said, trying to recall the release spell.

_"Melinda Warren, Blood of my blood, I release you"_

And with a smile as bright as the lights that swivelled around her, Melinda Warren returned to the spirit world, leaving the mother and daughter duo alone in the attic to solve the mess.

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**End of Chapter Four.**

**I know you guys were looking forward to the Seer, but she'll have to wait until the next chapter or so. Reviews help the uploads, so you know what to do.**


	5. Premonition

**Sorry I made you guys wait for so long. Without furthur ado:**

Chapter 5 - Premonition

An hour had passed. The Halliwell Attic was busy once more. Crystals spun, cauldrons fumed, pages flipped, witches bickered.

"Well, you should have thought about that before you sent your brothers right into her trap," Piper snapped at Melinda from over the potions table, tossing in a pair of dried rabbit eyes.

"How was I supposed to know that she would be there?" Melinda retorted, anger now gathering on her nose as she flipped through the pages of the Book.

"Regardless of which, you aren't supposed to use your powers on each other," Piper told her as she grabbed the yarrow root.

Melinda grunted with frustration, unintentionally using her telekinesis to make some books from the shelf behind fall. This was when Phoebe put down the scrying crystal and moved over to Melinda to intervene.

Hand on her shoulder, Phoebe tried to calm her niece. "Take it easy, Melly-girl," she told her, and then gave Piper a "don't" look. Piper tried to argue, but she decided to take her sister's advice. "I know that the two of you are tensed; it's understandable," she explained. "They're my nephews too, but let's not let our emotions get the better of us here." Melinda looked up at her mother and grimaced for a second. Then her frown turned into half a smile.

The moment was interrupted by faint jingles as Paige orbed into the attic in a cross-legged sitting position. "Okay I can't find them," Paige announced, getting to her feet. "Even though I stirred away from 'the war of the words'," Paige continued, glancing at Melinda and Piper, "I still couldn't sense them. They aren't on our plane, nor the Underworld." Being the boys' Whitelighter, and aunt, Paige had a stronger connection with them. Unlike other charges, Paige could sense the boys even when they were demon hunting in the Underworld. But now, all attempts at her sensing her nephew-charges proved negative.

"Well that makes sense," Melinda said, reading a page from the Book. "The scarab-amulets that she placed on them are called L'Nur, which when translated to Arabic means 'No good'," she explained. "It's supposed to block any good magic on whosoever wears it."

Paige nodded in understanding. Piper's face grew more anxious.

"What about the demon?" she asked Melinda, now moving toward the podium on which the Book of Shadows lay. Melinda frantically flipped the pages, finally settling her fingers opposite a page with a picture of a woman who strongly resembled the demon.

"N'Ghala," she read out loud from the Book. "She's not actually a demon. According to the Book she was a witch with the gift of foresight. She lived in Ancient Egyptian times and used her gift to bring her lover to wealth, making him the first Pharaoh. The Pharaoh however exposed her as a witch once he had exploited her. After she was condemned, she switched forces. N'Ghala lives in her lair deep in the Underworld-"

Melinda ceased her reading and gasped as her fingertips touched the illustration of the fallen witch. She felt a surge of magical energy rush into her body through her hand. She could see it now, the scene partially drained of its colour.

_She felt warm, yet strangely cold as she sensed the evil in the air. She was in an Underworld cavern, but it wasn't all clear. Certain parts of her environment were blurred, but the bright patches of light told her that there were torches on the cave walls. Suddenly Melinda turned around and saw the demon. Her heart beat faster as she saw N'Ghala raise her hand and form a fireball. But then the she-demon tossed it towards a tall manly figure. Although blurred, Melinda deciphered that it was Wyatt, and her heartbeat slowed down. Again, another fireball. This time it was tossed in the other direction. Melinda raised her hand to stop it but she was too late. This fireball hit another obscured masculine figure, his hair bouncing on impact. She had failed to save Chris. And now finally, N'Ghala turned towards Melinda. Fireball formed, she smiled wickedly. Melinda flicked her wrists, but N'Ghala stood unfrozen, and then glistened out. Intuitively turning around, Melinda raised her hands, but was stopped midway as the fireball hit her chest._

Melinda felt the impact hit her on the chest and was flung across the room. She hit the couch that stood in front of the stained glass windows hard. "That was a premonition," Phoebe stated the obvious as Piper, Paige, and she rushed to her side. Melinda's chest was scorched due to the fireball.

"Heal her!" Piper commanded, an anxious look on her face. Paige placed her hands over her niece and warm healing rays were emitted from her hands. Worried looks partly faded as the wound healed and Melinda's clothes reformed. Melinda woke up in a start.

"What did you see?" Piper asked her daughter.

"N'Ghala," Melinda replied in a trembling tone. "She's going to kill us."

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**Short Chapter. Reviewsare appriciated.**


	6. Pangs

**A/N: A Happy 2009 to all my readers who have waited for "the next chapter" for such a long time. Here it is.**

**Chapter Six - Pangs**

A wicked smile crossed N'Ghala's snow-white face as she looked down at her captives bathed in torchlight. The eldest Halliwell was finally awake. As N'Ghala walked towards him, Wyatt struggled to move his limbs, trying to push himself up so he could kick the seer's ass into oblivion. But he couldn't.

Once there, N'Ghala bent, her dark curls hanging freely above Wyatt. "Oh, don't even try," the words left her mouth with in a husky voice, "The old paralysing hex always does the trick." She then turned towards Chris, who had yet to regain consciousness. "Wake up little Halliwell," she whispered in a false motherly tone. Chris softly groaned, not wanting to come back. Impatient, N'Ghala pulled on his hair, making him wake up with a scream.

"You bitch!" Wyatt shouted, over-protectively. "Leave him alone!"

"You are in no position to command," she snapped, turning her head and fixing her eyes on him. She stared at his grimace for a few seconds, and then cackled. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," she stated. "The Twice-blessed," she claimed, mocking Wyatt. "And you," she said, turning to Chris again, "the Time-leaper. I doubt you'll be able to save your family this time."

Chris squinted his eyes in rage, trying to throw her back using his telekinesis. But all attempts were futile. He tried to orb out while N'Ghala sportingly watched. "Wy, I can't orb!" Chris exclaimed, looking at his older brother.

"Thanks to my little friends over here," N'Ghala cut in, gesturing at the L'Nur. "They block all good magic on whosoever wears it," she informed them, showing them her own. "But don't worry. Your little sister will find you. And then," she paused, smirking to enjoy their angry countenance, "I will have her powers."

N'Ghala turned away and walked to the other side of the cave where a wide array of athame lay. Grabbing one with a sapphire embedded in its handle, N'Ghala smiled, glaring at the boys' reflections in the blade. "You underestimate her. She's probably not the most powerful, but she is wise; wise and skilled. I could have had her back at the apartment," she boasted, "but I didn't." She turned back towards the boys. "You see, it takes three of a kind to break the power of the L'Nur. And with her here, near you, everything would have been ruined. She's reaching the zenith of her powers. It's just a matter of time," N'Ghala teased, feeling the tip of the athame that was going to do the job.

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Melinda Halliwell was having a smoothie of emotions. A pint of anger, peels of fear, diced slices of desperation, and a pinch of hope blended together to form this mixed-feeling cocktail. A thud was heard as Melinda dumped a heavy book onto the Magic School floor, swearing under her breath. And then the froth of frustration on the surface grew, making her hazy.

It was night time, yet she didn't care, for it was Summer. Students were away. No tests, no "_stupid"_ spell-and-combat classes, no homework—Summer. Her mother thought it would be best to seek shelter here, in Magic School, away from N'Ghala's wandering eyes. Had her mother let her come here when she was young, she would have enhanced her skills, naturally. But no, _"Sweetie__, __Grams __gave __us __a __normal __childhood__, __I __just __feel __that __it's __right __to __give __you __three __the __same__,__"_she mimicked her mother in her head. And there was anger being potent again. But she couldn't blame it all on her mother, could she? She _had _to cast the spell. She now tasted guilt. But she didn't have the time to nourish this bitter flavour. Blurry images of her brothers being incinerated flashed through her head. She had to act fast. The quicker she saved them, the quicker these feelings would be flushed down.

Her telekinesis manifested again. Quite a few books floated before the shelves of the L-P section while others dropped to the floor. She frantically flipped through pages, looking for something. "There - has - to - be - a -way," she gritted, going through most of them. But she could find none.

Hope was lost; the beverage spilt. With a cry of despair, Melinda flung her arms in the air. The books dropped to the floor before she did. Crying out loud, Melinda just sat there, as she had done when she was four. Back then, she had hurt her knee. It had bled, and the pain was too much for young Melinda. Her mother had come by her side back then, comforted her and bandaged the cut.

Today, there was no blood, but it still hurt, deep inside. Melinda pressed her mouth to her overcoat sleeve and sobered down to whimpers. Her teary eyes stared into nothingness as she let despair and sorrow dominate her. Then, she felt a hand rest on her shoulder, and snapped out of her catatonia.

Melinda turned her head towards the person sitting beside her. The excess tears had made her vision blurry, and all she could see now was a vague figure silhouetted against a yellow background with smears of brown. But she didn't need clear sight to identify the newcomer. Instant recognition was earned by the soothing manner in which this person stroked Melinda's hair.

"Mom," she sobbed, wiping off her tears with the back of her hand so that she could see Piper clearly. Piper took her into her arms.

"Sweetie-"

"There's nothing," she whispered, "Nothing. No way to save them—us! My powers are useless. I—It's my fault. I got them into this mess-"

"Melly, listen to me," Piper said, pulling away from the embrace and looking her daughter in the eye. "Your brothers are going to be fine. Everything happens for a reason, and that vision—you saw the future so that you can change-"

"I doubt I'll be able to change anything," Melinda interrupted again, trembling. "Mom, she has the L'Nur. She has foresight," she stated, emphasising on the last word. "She has an advantage. Our chances of vanquishing her are zero to a thousand."

"No, they aren't," Piper dissented. Melinda opened her mouth to argue, but Piper cut her off with a stern "No!". "Now you listen to me," she continued sternly, "Your aunts and I—we've gotten out of tighter spots than this before. We've had our powers stolen and the Feds on our back at the same time. We had the entire magical community against us. And then there were the countless times we died, and yet here we are." Piper paused momentarily to tuck a lock of Melinda's brown hair behind her ear. "You're a Halliwell," she told her, pride resounding in her voice, "and if there's one thing I know about Halliwells, it's that we are fighters." Melinda anticipated a long speech coming her way, but the words she heard were the last two she'd have expected to hear together: "I'm sorry."

Melinda gaped and mouthed an incomplete 'what'. "It's really my fault," Piper admitted, looking at her daughter who still seemed bemused. "I never let you go ahead and fight. I was stopping you from being who you are," she explained, and then her faint smile grew, "but you still managed to overcome that." And for the first time, there was somewhat of a feeble smile on Melinda's face. "You've come so far," she told her, taking Melinda's hands into hers, "and I don't think that you should give up just yet." Once again, Melinda opened her mouth to argue, but this time, she stopped herself, and listened to what her mother had to say.

"We're a family of survivors," Piper softly said, still smiling at Melinda, "And I'm counting on you so that we'll always be." Melinda smiled back. Her mother's words had magically ushered in a gush of confidence, without the use of a spell. Usually, they simply bickered, and Wyatt or her father intervened with words of wisdom. And then Piper cut the moment short.

"So pick yourself up, missy!" she told Melinda, slapping her on the lap and then getting to her feet, "You're no good to anyone just sitting here." And Melinda complied, pushing herself up, confidence and determination now radiating from her countenance as she followed her mother through the never-ending hallways she had never really familiarized with.

**End of Chapter.**

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****

A/N: I know that I had mentioned that Chapter Six would be the final one, but the plans for the story didn't permit it. Unfortunately, I have decided to discontinue this story, as I am too busy with schoolwork and I have also lost interest in almost all things Charmed. I apologise for getting your hopes up high to read the end of this story.

Special thanks goes to Phoenixlighter, for being my soundbox and getting me to write and publish this story in the first place.  
to The Matriarch, for helping me fine tune the Piper monolgue a bit.  
to Reyn (Tash), Amanda, and all of my other readers for putting up with the delays and the staying with the series.

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	7. Preparations

**A/N:** Alright, I know I said this fic was discontinued, but I still have a whole lot of unreleased prose stored, so I'll try my best to wrap it up in a chapter or two.

**Chapter Seven - Preparations**

Melinda followed her mother out of the library and into the network of never-ending corridors. These hallways had been the same for as long as she could remember. When young, Melinda used to follow her mother just as she did now, not knowing where her father's office was. Back then, she jumped with impatience, not wanting to wait in order to tell Leo what she had learnt at school that day. But today, she didn't make a sound.

She was still impatient, but confidence quelled the emotions that had earlier overpowered her. She was now in a state of zen, and as she walked briskly behind her mother, her mind formulated a plan to vanquish N'Ghala.

"Melly!" The high pitched shriek broke Melinda's chain of thoughts. She was finally there, again.

"Aunt Phoeb-" Melinda choked as Phoebe hugged her.

The older woman pulled away from the hug smiling. "Ooh, I am so glad that you got over all of those horrible feelings," she cooed. "All of that anger, and frustration, and self-guilt," she continued, as Piper began to get annoyed.

"Phoebes-"

"I could sense it all the way here! Oh, it's so good you have it out of you," she rambled on, gesturing her hands outwards, and neglecting her sister. Melinda glanced over her shoulder to see her mother roll her eyes. "Now that you're finally composed and-"

"Phoebe!" Piper was now loud enough to overrule Phoebe's perkiness.

"What?"

"If you don't mind, my sons are in danger," Piper said, entering the room. "So you can play the annoying empath of an aunt after we save them and-"

"Not we," Melinda interrupted, correcting her mother. "I." Piper instantaneously turned around and raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to argue. "No, mom," Melinda stopped her mother before she could begin. "I got them into this mess, I'm going to get them out. Your powers most certainly won't work," she told her, "Just as mine didn't. Good magic, remember?"

"Then how are we going to stop her?"

"The answer was under our noses all along," a masculine voice broke the chain of womanly dialogue. Melinda's eyes wandered past her mother and aunt to find her father seated on his wooden desk, hands clasped. "Potions," Leo stated, pointing to the brewing apparatus that lay on the marble floor.

Melinda eyed the fuming cauldron and the array of ingredients that lay beside it, placed on a stretch of dark velvet. Melinda pushed past the other two women and entered the room. She made her way towards the arrangement, confidence still beaming from her countenance. "How so?" she asked when she was halfway there, without breaking step.

"Do you remember the seminar that was held a few years ago in the Main hall? The one about morality and magic?"

Melinda nodded as she lowered herself and sat on her side. She examined some of the ingredients and the utensils they were in: yarrow root (chopped fine and placed in a stainless-steel bowl), powdered thyme (the dry green dust that lay in the mortar at the base of the pestle), and one of the few ingredients that made her insides churn—desiccated salamander skin. Melinda continued studying the other ingredients, trying to recall recipes for potions that she had learnt which would come handy in her hour of need. Even though her eyes focused on what was in front of her, Melinda's ears concentrated on what her father had to say.

"Spells, powers—"

And then his words drowned. The Book of Shadows had caught her eye. The confidence she recently wore was torn, shredded to pieces, and her determination was daunted. It wasn't the presence of the Book that had brought about this change, but the page to which it was open to—N'Ghala.

"—Mel?" Melinda snapped back into her senses. This was no time to get cold feet. She needed to channel her fear into her power.

"Sorry, just got lost in thought," Melinda told her father. "You were saying?"

"Spells, powers," her father resumed his explanation, "—the nature of both depend on the user as they both come from within. Potions, on the other hand, are always neutral in nature."

"Well, then we've—" Piper stopped to correct herself, "— you've," she emphasized, looking at Melinda, "got a head start." On noticing the incomplete potion that was being brewed, Melinda scanned the entry again for a vanquishing potion. Realizing that the page didn't have a potion recipe specifically to vanquish N'Ghala, Melinda turned towards her mother. "What's cooking?" she asked.

"Circe's stun potion," Piper replied, "If it's bubbling, it means it's almost done. Just add a pinch of powdered thyme." Melinda reached out for the dull green powder beneath the mortar in the bowl and added a 'pinch' of it to the opaque blue liquid. As it sunk in, a slight spark of electricity danced about the surface, eliminating the bubbles and turning the potion a transparent pale blue.

"Electric-y," Melinda commented, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Not the normal stun potion. What does it do?"

"Shocks her thrice a minute or so while she's almost paralyzed," Piper explained, grinning as she imagined N'Ghala under those effects. "It's meant to replicate your freezing power, just with a kick," she told Melinda, who now carefully filled a vial with the liquid shock-serum.

"What else have you got?" Melinda asked.

"Well, there are two vanquishing potions on the table," Piper said, pointing out to the two vials, one holding a transparent pink liquid and the other a dirty green. "As good as the ones we used to vanquish the Source decades ago," she claimed, as Melinda filled up another vial with the stun potion.

"On the right, there are a few defensive ones," Piper continued the potion tour. "The orange one creates a temporary wall of fire," Piper further informed her. Melinda picked up the bottle and viewed it up-close at eye level. A few blobs of ochre-yellow floated in the clear orange. "Shake well before use," Piper winked, walking towards her daughter. "And here are some more," she continued, pointing out to the other vials.

"_This could just work," _she thought to herself, her smile resurfacing. She peered at N'Ghala's entry and slightly stirred her fingers, _"You're toast."_ And the pages flipped telekinetically, burying the image of the soon-to-be-vanquished evil as the green leathered tome slammed shut.

The vials that were filled rose with her as she got to her feet, following her as she strode to the table Leo sat at, and then gently seated themselves beside Leo as Melinda bent to lift her brown handbag. Once she unzipped it, she momentarily focused, too impatient to rummage through it, and the object she wished to find gracefully floated upward as her bag descended to the floor.

Melinda grabbed the blood-stained athamae by the handle, relieving it of the loose telekinetic hold. Turning to her mother and aunt, she stated, "It's time."

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**A/N:** Yes, yes, I know. Not my best, nor as good as Torn. Most of this was written pre-Pangs.  
But review for the love of goth.


	8. Pass Into The Night

**A/N:** Alright, I know it has been a long, long, LONG time since I published the previous chapter, but I've got some good news for you guys: I finally finished writing this freakin' story. This is the final chapter, which shall be followed by an epilogue (posted as a new chapter here on ). So without further ado, enjoy Chapter 8.

**Chapter Eight - Pass Into The Night**

A pair of triplet lights materialized in the dark warehouse, two larger ones encircling them as they swiveled while Melinda's body took shape between the two, and finally solidified when the lights amalgamated. This was where the crystal had dropped, and Melinda hoped that this wasn't a wild goose chase. She examined her surroundings—darkness, cut regularly by streams of moonlight which illuminated the dust that danced to the chirping of crickets—and sighed.

_"They must have shimmered out," _she thought to herself. _"Back to the scrying tab__–__"_

Melinda's musings were cut off as something banged against the door behind her. The thud had barely caught her off guard, but she flinched nevertheless. The eerie silence that followed gave her the all clear. Melinda turned away from the array of uncharacteristically still dust and faced the door, extending her left hand forward.

Her "freeze frame", as she now liked to call it, assured her that she'd be safe to use her powers without the risk of exposure, and Melinda confidently swung her arm to the left in order to open the door. Instead of the gentle pull she had intended, the door flung inward and smashed into a pile of wooden crates not too far away from her. The glass bottles that the crates encased now lay as nothing more than shards and tin bottle-caps on the floor, the effervescent orange-soda they previously contained still retaining their form due to the witch's magic.

Luckily for Melinda, this wasn't Halliwell Manor. Otherwise the crash would have induced a stern and extended "Melly!" from rooms away followed by her mother's incessant bickering of how irresponsible she was. Ignoring the mess she created behind her, Melinda turned her attention to the now-open doorway, her heartbeat increasing leaps and bounds at what awaited her.

"_It worked!"_ Her inner voice cried in excitement as she saw the stand-still demons of the clan that had earlier attacked Sally. She would have jumped for joy, but then the potions in her pouch would probably spill like the orange-soda had, and as she advanced towards her ticket to hell, Melinda noticed a seemingly familiar figure suspended in midair. It was obviously this figure that caused the thunk when the demons flung him towards the door.

"Not you again," Melinda moaned as she saw the Innocent's face. The dirty dark locks that almost always hid one half of his unshaven visage were now frozen mid-slop against his right ear, and for the first time ever, Melinda could see Jett's eyes. Although brown in color like hers, they were rounder in shape, shock and dread domineering the casual light-heartedness his stringy hair habitually concealed. His gaping mouth mirrored those feelings, and the witch felt lucky that her power also blocked out the stench that she'd have to bear with had he not been static.

The hobo seemed to be looking beyond where she stood, and Melinda turned see a dagger similar to the one she scryed with frozen in its trajectory. Focusing on the weapon, she concentrated, taking her time and finally squinting her eyes to quickly reverse the direction of assault without unfreezing the athamae. Content with the result, she turned back to Jett and frowned. "And now, you," she sighed, taking a step back and flicking her wrists.

The man unfroze, resuming his screaming and writhing as he flew past the threshold and landed a few feet away from the debris of Melinda's telekinetic mishap. Melinda briskly charged in towards her sore Innocent. "I'm assuming you're not okay," she stated, helping him up.

"What happened?" He feigned ignorance as his panting breaths lightly oscillated his untamed mane that had managed to cascade over his face again.

"I'll explain it to you sometime later," the witch lied back. _And probably introduce you to some of my brothers' memory dust after. _"But you need to get out of here, now, or they'll kill you." The Whitelighter nodded, regaining his breath as his Charge escorted him past his assailants. He continued to make his way towards the street when he realized that the footsteps behind him had stopped. Jett turned on the heel of his worn out sneakers.

"Wait, aren't you–" He stopped his benevolent question on seeing his savior holding a compact-mirror in one hand, and lipstick in another. "What on Earth are you doing?" he asked, aghast.

"Something I'm seriously going to regret," she retorted, smacking her lips and shutting the mirror soon after. Jett's face fell even further. What was his Charge thinking? Of all the things he had gathered about her, midnight-lust for demons was one that he never thought he'd have to watch over. "What are you looking at? Look, I saved your life, just leave before–"

"But I can help, I'm–" And the next thing he knew, Jett's legs were obediently carrying him away from the witch he was sworn to protect, a faint taste of strawberries and magic lingering on his lips as he turned the corner like he was told to do so.

Melinda made a sour face as she ran the enchanted cosmetic over her lips again. Shifting her attention towards the horde of demons once more, she made a hurried decision and approached the least disgusting. He unfroze a few moments before her lips captured his, and once her magic had worked, she whispered her command into his ear and unfroze the rest.

A feral cry initiated the vanquishing process as the once immobilized athamae violently gyrated through the demon's insides, followed by the usual spontaneous combustion. The remaining three looked around in confusion before spotting Melinda and their ally who stood behind her. "Kill her, she's standing right in front of you!"

The towering redhead raised a dagger of his own high above Melinda, and almost reluctantly, he tossed it towards the forehead of the one who commanded, setting off another display of howls and flame. The look on the demons' faces brought a smile on Melinda's. Without missing the opportunity, she telekinetically directed two vials of exploding potion between the remaining two and made them collide almost instantaneously, leaving her just one to take care of.

Turning to her newfound subordinate, Melinda whispered her order into his ear as she grabbed hold of his arm and felt her body ripple away into a familiar world.

It was warm, yet strangely cold. The stench of blood and soot quickly flooded her nostrils as she opened her eyes to find herself in an underworld cavern. The torch-lit lair was neater than the few she had visited, for as far as she could see, there were no remains, skeletal or corporal. This, along with the smell that she was familiarizing herself with, stirred up fear in her being once more. Had N'Ghala succumbed to impatience and incinerated her brothers before she got there, or was she just shimmered into the wrong cave?

"You're not in the wrong cave," a raspy voice killed her doubts, her fear now turning flesh. Melinda hesitantly spun on her heel to see the snow-white seer seated elegantly on the cavern floor.

"You read minds?" she stupidly asked, with an air of confidence.

"Just your body language," replied N'Ghala. "We haven't formally met, have we, Melinda Halliwell?" The demon snickered as Melinda ignored her and continued to survey every inch of the cave she could from her position. Shackles hung at irregular intervals from the rocky walls by heavy, dark iron chains. All they seemed to hold was the warm air between them, and the rust and blood that copulated beneath their dusty surface assured Melinda that Wyatt and Chris weren't being held anywhere close.

"Where are they?" Melinda hissed, staring her down. N'Ghala simply raised an eyebrow, throwing her a quizzical look. "Stop playing games, Seer. I know they're here, I saw them—my brothers. Now, where are they?"

"Ah, it seems like you got the psychic invite I sent your way," N'Ghala cackled and finally stood up, locking her eyes on the prize.

Her gaze alone was enough to send chills down Melinda's spine and multiply her fear tenfold. Still, she held her head high, breaking eye contact with her foe only when she needed to blink. N'Ghala began to walk towards her, and Melinda instantaneously stepped behind the towering redhead.

"Oh, come now! Don't be shy," the seer insisted, drawing her bejeweled athamae out of thin air. "I've been told many a time that when it comes to witchfolk, I'm quite warm." She was still a few feet away from the Trescelté, taking her own sweet time to get to her. The battle was already won; she knew the outcome, and as she approached Melinda, she twisted and turned her knife skillfully, contemplating the angle at which she'd stab her.

Melinda inched closer to her demon slave.

Her hand now stirred vigorously in her potion pouch, the frequency of her blinking increasing. All this while, as N'Ghala taunted her, Melinda was slowly brushing her fingers against each of the vials, calling forth premonitions of the possible outcome of each. Now, with the zombie before her acting as a veil, her search had picked speed.

With one final blink, Melinda's eyes lit up. Having finally found the concoction to the madwoman's undoing, she lifted it using her index and middle fingers, and grasped loosely.

This was it.

She let go of the demon. She let go of the potion. It floated telekinetically behind his back, and she began to move her feet forward, to face the Seer. She mentally focused on the liquid in the vial; she imagined the trajectory it would take. But before she could play the first offense, N'Ghala conjured a palm-sized fireball and pitched it toward an unwary Melinda.

With a gasp, she froze the entire cavern, but the fireball and N'Ghala still moved. Panic peaking, she resorted to her tertiary ability, hurling her seven-foot man-shield into the gyrating sphere of flame. The collision tossed both parties backward, and the potion that swiveled in the air magically fluttered back into the fallen Halliwell's open hand.

Clouds of dust settled and wisps of smoke rose. Melinda coughed as she came to, shortly followed by an elongated moan as she pushed herself up by the elbows. She was sore; most of her exposed flesh turned red by either a cut or burn, and the rest bruised blue. Hesitantly, she got onto her knees, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. She opened her chocolate browns to a frilly, white texture. N'Ghala stood above her, scratchless and satisfied.

"Nowhere to hide," she whispered, bending swiftly and pulling Melinda up by her hair.

The witch whimpered and roared almost simultaneously, and N'Ghala pressed the flat of the blade to her skin. N'Ghala wallowed in her victim's agony, cackling just as maniacally as she had before. Her eyes bloomed with excitement, and she bent forth to whisper: "Any last wor—OH! What's that you've got there?" She looked at Melinda's hand, then scoffed. "A potion? You think a _potion_ will do me any harm? Give it your best shot," she said, stepping back with arms wide open.

Melinda shook the clear liquid in the vial and watched froth appear at its surface. N'Ghala was so overly confident that it wouldn't work, but she knew better. With a smile of stolen confidence, Melinda tossed the vial at the feet of her foe.

The glass broke. The liquid leaked. The froth settled, and nothing happened.

N'Ghala haughtily laughed as she saw her vision come true. "I've seen millennia pass before they even happened," she gloated at a defeated Melinda. "And you think that you, a mere two decades, could circumvent my prowess? Perhaps I overestimated you," she spat, but then stopped as glass broke at her feet again. An eerie blue glow ran up her entire form, rendering her stiff and speechless. N'Ghala was frozen.

"Or perhaps," Melinda mocked, snatching the L'Nur off her neck, "you underestimated the good old aqua-placebo trick." She flung the golden amulet into a corner of the cave, and after uncorking a vial of pink potion, she poured it all over the artifact. There was a bright explosion of violet flames, and N'Ghala's protection was no more.

Melinda didn't wait for the fire to die out to flick her wrists. N'Ghala's head unfroze, and the victor boldly asked, "Where are my brothers?" The ancient seer seemed like she was drunk, for she snickered senselessly.

"Your powers—give them to me, and I'll tell."

"You're in no position to bargain."

"This is only tempora–" A dozen sparks of electricity burst out of her skull, and N'Ghala screeched in pain. A few moments later, she collected herself, and continued, "–temporary. It will wear off soon enough. It was I, after all, who aided Circe with working up this–"

"Oh, I've got more potion," Melinda patted her pouch. "And thyme. A pinch of which will only bring your shocks closer in duration, and I've got plenty of pinches. Now, my brothers…"

The only sound that passed N'Ghala's lips was that of her insolent snickering.

"Fine," Melinda said, drawing a vial of powdered thyme from her pouch. "You asked for it."

Melinda threw a pinch of the green herb into the blue glow, and electricity once again rippled over her head, this time more fiercely. She shrieked, then returned to snickering. Another pinch, another shriek, another snicker. One more, and the cycle continued.

Two minutes into it, Melinda was tired. She looked vehemently at her foe, whose skin no was longer snow-white. The seer's charred flesh could only be seen for the five seconds she wasn't being electrocuted, and Melinda was certain that another pinch would turn her into a stagnant live-wire that would eventually explode. Hardly effective, but she wasn't getting anything out of her anyway. She'd find her brothers on her own.

She dipped her fingers into the vial for a final pinch, but this time, N'Ghala resisted. She didn't snicker; she focused. As the thyme sprung from Melinda's fingers, a familiar, blue glow emanated from the centre of N'Ghala's form, countering its effect. This glow was quite different from the one N'Ghala was already swimming in, and Melinda recognized it, her eyes growing teary.

"How do you–"

"How else? I killed him" N'Ghala confessed, safe, yet still being shocked within Wyatt's protective bubble.

"LIAR." She seethed, refusing to believe this. "My vision, it didn't—doesn't happen that way. I… you kill him after I get here."

"The vision was a lie," N'Ghala explained nonchalantly, "One that I planted. You see, I'm not your average demon of the week. I see things. I act, tactically. Granted, I _overlooked_ that vile of water coming my way, but the reason I got here is because I waited. I waited for this very day, for your impatience to overpower you. You wanted so much to be a part of something bigger—a Power of Three, doubly-blessed, Almighty! Descendants of the Warren line were long prophesized to be women of strength," she paused, smirking at the sight of Melinda on her knees, trembling, babbling, trying to make sense of reality, "But look at you! Broken. Weak. Nothing like ancestors, or your brothers. At least Wyatt f–"

"SHUT UP!" Melinda shrieked. The ground below her started to tremble with her, as did the ceiling above. "Don't take his name—"

"He wasn't as Almighty as we thought he was, you know. All that stabbing and this," she gazed into Melinda's furious eyes through the shimmering shield, "is all he left me with. I shouldn't complain. After all, he was collateral damage." The tremors grew more vigorous. The earth below them split. The ceiling shed many a rock. Melinda spasmed in sorrow.

N'Ghala smirked within her protective shell, watching the falling rocks shatter into gravel upon impact. She returned her gaze to the cowering witch who was smothered by dust and rubble. "Worthless," she whispered. The shocks had grown considerably weaker, and N'Ghala's limbs started to stir. She approached the fallen witch with baby steps, still within her force-field.

"Good things come to those who wait," she mused. The tremors now grew fainter, and the charred Seer extended her shield to prolong her dying prize's fate. She bent forth, athamae in hand, and turned her over. "I've seen what you could become… who you would become. You should have waited."

Melinda's eyes snapped open.

"And you should not have interfered in the first place," she retorted. The athamae flew out of N'Ghala's hand and ripped through her chest violently. The Seer exploded into a fountain of flame that filled up the entire shell in seconds.

The cave shook the most it had that night. The fire soon died out, and so did the shield. The quake seemed to go on for a few more seconds until it, too, came to an end. It was all over now—the day, her pain, N'Ghala, Wyatt. Wyatt…

And then everything went black.

_[ X ]_

The thrill of riding the rollercoaster from the afterlife to the world of the living was something Melinda believed was worth dying for. Once her ride had stopped, Melinda took a deep breath, sprung forward and opened her eyes to familiar, blurred vision. She smiled a toothy grin, and yelling her once dying thoughts. "Wyatt! I knew that evil bitch was lying. I'm so glad that you were here to heal me."

"Melinda," said a voice, much different than Wyatt's. A palm approached her face. There was warmth, light; she could now see clearly again. "Wyatt didn't heal you." It was the hobo from Chez Trois. Her smile instantly vanished.

"I don't underst—you're a Whitelighter?"

"I'm _your _Whitelighter, yes," Jett said, wrapping his coat around her naked body.

Melinda flinched, almost as lost as she was before she destroyed N'Ghala's lair. "I… where are we?" She looked around. _Atop Golden Gate Bridge, of course. _"My brothers," she whispered, "Where are they?"

Jett chose his words wisely. "Chris was in a critical state when we found him. Your aunt managed to heal him back to full health. He's back at the Manor."

"And Wyatt?" Melinda asked, hope emanating from her eyes. Jett looked away and then back into her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Melinda." The girl instantaneously burst into tears. He didn't dare touch her, but he extent ended his hand forward. "We must go." She hesitated to take it, curling her fingers back and forth, sobbing, whimpering. He extended it further.

"Are you sure there's nothing we can do? Nothing you can—"

"You know how it works, Melinda. I can't heal the de–" Her face grew more tense at this and her sobs, more bitter.

"Chris—Chris is alive. And–" she raised her hand, stretching her palm. Jett stumbled a few steps back. "–I still have my powers. We can—Chris, he's good with temporal folds. We can go back in time, the three of us. I could reverse my spell and use its power to help him open it. Or stop myself from doing it in the first place. We can save—we–"

"We must go," Jett simply said, offering her his hand. "Your mother's worried. Come." She collected herself, dried her eyes with her left hand, and reached out for his with her right.

Together, they orbed out of what had seemed to be an eternal night.

**End of Chapter.**

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**A/N:** Okay, so that was Chapter 8. Big shit went down. Did some of it leave you gaping? Leave a review (seperately, for this one and the next, if you don't mind). My big thanks post will be found at the end of the epilogue.


	9. Posthumous

**Epilogue - Posthumous**

"Here you go, Mr. Helton."

She feigned a smile. Six weeks had passed since Wyatt's death, and the only times Melinda seemed to smile were when she served her customers. Piper had gone on a vanquishing spree before temporarily retiring to the comfort of her home with a still-grieving Leo, and Chris, Chris spent most of his waking hours at P3, managing his woes away. While the rest of her family stayed frozen in grief, Melinda had moved on, as had the rest of the world. The spell was reversed, she had gotten her job back, and Chez Trois bustled as it always had.

"Excuse me, miss."

Melinda turned, forcing another smile. "And how may I help you today, sir?" A middle-aged blond sat in a booth just as pompously as Mr. Helton had, only he was not seated alone. Across the table sat a younger, humbler soul, dressed in a simpler fashion, who Melinda assumed to be either his lover or sibling.

"A Boeuf Bourguignon for me and a Coq au Vin for Kirk here." Melinda scribbled the order.

"Will that be all?" He nodded. "Alright then, sir. Your meal will be ready in about twenty minutes." Another nod, followed by a "thank you" from Kirk. Melinda walked back to the kitchen, handing a chef the order and undoing her apron. "I'm just stepping out for a breath of fresh air, Joe. Buzz me when the food's ready."

She stood in the back-alley now, awaiting her routine rendezvous with her divine savior who was forever at her service. A familiar stench flooded her senses, making her eyes water and her nose twitch. She flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder, but didn't freeze anything just yet.

"Okay, how do you do that?" Melinda asked. "Why don't you just orb in seen like most Whitelighters do?"

"Keeps me hidden from the pesky Muggle eye. Think of it as an advanced form of cloaking," Jett explained, "Magic really has evolved since your mother and her sisters–"

"Yes, I'm well-versed in my family history. I know what they've done for us all, the infallible Charmed Ones."

"I see that you're still bitter about being 'normal'," Jett said. "I thought you'd know better by now. And they aren't infallible. Melinda, it's not your fault that he—"

"We go over this everyday, Jett," she spat, glaring at him through teary eyes. "_I_ should have known better. _I_ should have waited. Casting that damn spell was the worst mistake _I_ ever made. N'Ghala said it herself. She would have attacked sooner or later, whenever I fully came into my powers. _I_ made it sooner!" She was yelling now, breathing harder than ever before. "Chris doesn't let me forget it. He blames _me _and he's right. Mom and Dad barely say anything about it, but they know that it's my fault that he's gone."

Once she had stopped, Jett placed his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. He looked into her deep brown eyes as she continued to hyperventilate for a few more seconds. Once she was stable, he waved his hand across her face, drying her tears with the warm golden glow that emanated from his palm.

"You need to understand that it takes time to heal," he said. "You might go on to be the most powerful witch in the world, but at heart, you'll still be human. Along the way, you'll make mistakes, you'll fall; the spell was just the first of many. But that's why the Elders assigned you a Whitelighter. And if you ask me, I've done a darn good job being your guardian angel." He smiled genuinely, emanating a healing glow that wasn't magic, but his own.

It worked. She smiled back.

"Can't argue with that," Melinda said. "Although… I'll probably need to give your bosses a call about this hobo getup you have going." She pinched her nose and slapped the air around her lightly. "I don't understand why you still need to keep it going. You're invisible for Heaven's sake! And I know who you are."

"I suppose I like being in-character," he chuckled.

"Well, your character needs to take a shower… or five," Melinda said, looking at the time on her wristwatch. "Anyway, I've got patrons waiting on me." She turned away, then looked back. He was gone. _"Thank you," _she mentally whispered, returning to the restaurant.

Melinda walked out of the kitchen with the Coq au Vin in her left hand and the Bourguignon in her right. She approached the booth occupied by the two blonds with a smile and placed the plates on the table. "Enjoy your meal," she said.

"Thanks. Do you mind taking a picture of old Hiram and me?" asked Kirk.

"Sure," Melinda replied, reaching out for the camera. The instant her fingers grazed the smooth metallic surface, a jolt of electricity ran up her spine and evoked a gasp out of her. Images sequentially flooded her mind, telling her the story of what was yet to happen. Melinda opened her eyes to an appalled Hiram and a concerned Kirk. The latter was her innocent.

"Are you alright?"

She feigned a smile.

**Fin.**

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**A/N: So that's the "end" of this. Melinda finally finding some sense of resolution, even though it's open-ended. I do have many tales to tell of her, and her sibling(s), and cousins, but I'm not sure whether or not I have the time to do so. I am still writing "Torn", but the release dates are indefinite. Anyway, on to the thank-you list.**

**To Phoenixlighter and (the late) Lady Reyn (aka Tash) for being my soundboxes when it came to this story.**  
**To Active Engaged, for being the verging-on-stalker fanboy and friend he is, for never giving up on this universe, and sticking through.**  
**To Amanda, if you're alive. PJ's the new you! But thanks for sticking with the story.**

**And to all of my other readers who that have stayed all these years. Thank you for sticking with this story for all these years.**  
**Your feedback is what motivated me to continue writing (and finally finish) this tale. You all truly are special.**

**Now review! **


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